


Compromise

by Luka



Series: We're a team [6]
Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 05:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/pseuds/Luka
Summary: A conversation before the Premiership semi-final leaves Owen feeling conflicted.





	Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> This is the latest instalment in my series that tries to explore what might happen if two international rugby stars came out. It takes place during the week before the English Premiership semi-finals and follows on from Betrayed, United, Division, Together and Pressure (all posted).

“Jonny’s done what?”

“Booked him and me a golfing holiday in Spain.”

“When?”

“Flying out at stupid o’clock tomorrow night from East Midlands and coming back early on Friday morning."

"And he didn't think to ask you first?"

George looked at Owen pityingly. "This is Jonny we're talking about. You know what he's like. If something comes into his head, he has to say or do it. He was most particular in pointing out that we wouldn’t miss the semi-final match.”

“We?”

“He’s appointed himself my minder … And he’ll be able to catch up with all his old Gloucester mates.”

“Are you OK about all of this?”

“Yeah … It’ll be good to get away for a few days.” George sounded phlegmatic. 

“Maybe you and me can go somewhere once the season’s over?”

George’s serious face lit up. “Yeah, that’d be great. Look, you are OK with both me and Jonny being at the match on Saturday?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“After last time …”

“I want you there. And Jonny’s a good lad.”

Wordlessly George wrapped his arms around Owen and hugged him. Owen kissed him, just holding George close and feeling the tense body relaxing slightly. And he caught the whispered words: “Love you.”

***

They went to the Italian restaurant in town, which was busy on a Sunday evening, and sat in a corner by the window. The couple a few tables away – a gorgeous black woman and her handsome mixed race boyfriend – were all over each other like a rash, and Owen found himself wondering what would happen if he leaned over and kissed George in public.

“Penny for ‘em …”

“What?” Owen was confused.

“I can almost hear the cogs whirring in your brain!”

“I was just looking at the young couple across the way and was wondering what people’d say if I kissed you in public.”

By now the couple, who looked to be about their age, were holding hands across the table and staring into each other's eyes.

George looked at him seriously for a moment or two. “It’d be good to think we could do that and no one would say anything. But you don’t have to stick your tongue down my throat in public to prove you love me.”

Owen reached out and let their fingers briefly brush against each other. “Never doubt just how much I do love you, our kid.”

***

George was so responsive in bed. It was one of the few places where he let his guard down. He was one of those natural leaders who was used to taking on responsibility, and sometimes just needed someone to tell him it was OK to relax and trust someone else. It occurred to Owen that it was a pretty similar story for him as well.

Owen thought back to his first sight of the tenacious little lad tackling boys twice his size on rugby league pitches in Lancashire. And George had continued his career in that vein. He'd carried a failing team on his back all season and had been the perfect England squad member, despite spending most of the Six Nations on the bench. And he’d taken Owen outing them to thousands, maybe millions, of people on Instagram in his stride. Owen knew George would never back down in his determination to live his life next to the person he loved, no matter what other people said.

George pushed Owen’s sweat-damp fringe back from his forehead and kissed him. “You OK?”

“Bloody brilliant!” And it had been. Their bodies were so perfectly attuned to each other's.

And he was rewarded with one of George’s rare smiles as Owen settled himself comfortably against his lover, resting his head on George’s chest and falling asleep to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

***

George was out of the house and on his way back to Leicestershire before 8am on Monday morning. Jonny had started texting him from 6am, asking with increasing concern what time he’d be home. Owen had a shower, checked his emails, forwarded some corny jokes to Gabe and then decided he might as well go in early and practice his kicking before everyone else turned up.

Owen lost himself in the intensity of a tough training session, with everyone totally focused on the Premiership semi-final. They were done by 1pm, and Owen showered, got dressed and wondered about going to the golf driving range for an hour or so.

“Hey, Faz.”

“Mako.” Owen kept his voice level. He hadn’t outright avoided Billy and Mako the past few weeks - something that would have been tricky in a changing room and on a rugby pitch - but he hadn’t instigated conversations with them. Billy had thrown him nervous smiles periodically, but had kept his distance. Mako being out injured meant he hadn’t been around so much.

“You got time for coffee?”

Owen hesitated, then shrugged. That way he could always say he’d made the effort. “Yeah, OK.”

“How about the place in town by the car park?”

“OK. I’ll see you there in half an hour.”

Mako nodded and headed for the door, stopping to chat to Will Skelton on the way.

“You want me to come with you?” Jamie sat down beside him, his eyes showing his concern.

“To keep us apart?”

Jamie half-smiled and shrugged.

“Thanks, but it’ll be OK. I don’t want him to claim later that I went mob-handed.”

When Owen got to the cafe, Mako was at a table in the far corner and had already bought two coffees. He was carefully stirring his, the teaspoon tiny in his huge hand. Owen nodded his thanks and sat down. He then took a sip of his drink and waited, conscious that he was probably doing what George called his ‘Wigan psycho’ expression, honed on the junior rugby league pitches of Lancashire and perfected on the rugby union pitches of the world.

After several minutes of silence, Mako said: “I’ve counted you and George as good friends for what feels like forever. And that friendship is something that’s important to me. I hate feeling torn between friends, family and my faith.”

“The only way we’re different to the two blokes you’ve known so long is one tiny part of our lives.”

“I know …” Mako stared out of the window to where two dogs were facing off against each other. "George hates Billy and me now, doesn't he?"

“You’d have to ask him that. If he does, though, can you blame him? Someone he thought was a friend says he and I are going to hell because we're gay, pours scorn on the fact that we're entitled to marry each other and then seems unable to understand why he's hurt us and other people." 

"You really are going to get married?"

"Did you think we were joking?"

"I …" Mako looked away again.

"Yes, we are. Next summer. And don't worry … You and Billy won't be invited, so you won't have to mither over whether to turn up or not and be seen to be endorsing a perverted lifestyle.”

This time Mako caught his eye. ”We both really do want you and George to be happy."

"Yeah, whatever …"

“I hate the fact I wouldn’t be welcome when two friends get married.”

"Would you even come if we did invite you, though?"

Mako regarded him steadily. "Yes, I would," he said in his quiet Welsh tones.

"And Billy?"

"I don't know. I think he would, as he'd feel bad about missing two friends' wedding."

"Even though he's clearly disgusted by homosexuality and the thought of two men getting married to each other?"

"He'd tell you that he hates the sin and not the sinner …"

"Which is fucking bollocks, mate, and a total cop-out. How would you feel if someone tried that line on you?"

"But I do see myself as a sinner, and so does Billy …"

Owen rolled his eyes and decided to keep quiet.

"Is your family religious?"

"Me mam goes to church and marches us all there at Christmas."

"And George's?"

"I dunno. I don't think so."

"i suppose the point I'm trying to make is that it's hard to reason against things that you've been brought up on all your life."

"I'd hate to think I was the same person in my 20s as I was in my teens. Apart from playing rugby, of course."

Mako half-smiled. "I know what you mean. But for many people religious faith doesn't work like that."

"Don't you ever question what some book written thousands of years ago says?"

"Like I said, once you're brought up with something ..."

"So that's a no, then."

“Your dad … And George’s … Are they OK about it all?”

“Why shouldn’t they be? Did you assume two macho rugby league blokes would have a problem with it?”

“Of course not. But …”

“They’re both fine about us and a fuck sight more interested in what we both do on the pitch than what we do in bed.”

Mako looked embarrassed at this point and looked away.

“Is that it, Mako, that you don’t want to think about what two blokes do in bed?”

“It’s none of my business …"

"Exactly."

"Does your little brother know?”

“Yep. He asked me why I kissed George after the final, and I said that I love George in the same way as our mam loves our dad. He nodded and then wanted a photo taken of him and me and the cup. Why do you ask? Do you think we’re contaminating young minds? Doesn’t it occur to you that kids who see a loving relationship between two blokes as perfectly normal are likely to grow up without the bigotry and misconceptions that George and I have already encountered?”

Mako by this time was obviously thoroughly uncomfortable with the way the conversation had gone. He shrugged and didn’t answer. And Owen decided he needed to get out of there before he said something he'd regret later. A text message on his phone from the Saracens press guy asking for a quote on his much-hyped clash with Danny Cipriani on Saturday provided a welcome escape.

“I’d better go and keep the press office happy. Thanks for the coffee, mate. I'll see you …" And he made for the door before Mako could reply.

***

“The course was amazing! I won on the first day with an eagle at the 17th, then George won on Wednesday when he got par on the last two holes. I won on the last day with an albatross at the last. It’s two and a half months since I’ve done one of those. And we found this brilliant cafe to eat in every night. We both had the paella …”

"Calm down, mate," said George, but he was smiling at Jonny's enthusiastic and detailed account of their golfing holiday. Owen thought that he looked far less exhausted than he had the previous weekend, and he'd even caught the sun a bit.

“We’re going to go there again, as the hotel was good as well and did these huge breakfasts …”

“Oi, get your fingers out of the tomatoes!” George rapped Jonny smartly across the knuckles with a wooden spoon. They’d arrived late Friday afternoon and George, who was a competent cook, had looked in the fridge, pulled a face and then set about making pasta with tomato sauce for their tea.

After the meal they settled down to watch more of the rugby league Magic Weekend matches, with Jonny, who seemed to think rugby league was some mysterious language, asking questions every few minutes. George, snuggled against Owen on the sofa, sighed long-sufferingly and humoured his team-mate.

As they were getting ready for bed, Owen said: "I had coffee with Mako the other day.”

"Yeah? Is he suddenly playing nice?"

"His idea. He genuinely seems to want to patch things up. And he said he'd come to the wedding if we invite him and that Billy probably would as well." As soon as he'd said it, he realised it was a mistake.

George's face took on that closed, unreadable look that Owen saw so rarely when they were together. “They’re your teammates and you've got to do what you think best," he said, curling up under the duvet and closing his eyes.

***

It was a pretty easy win in the end, despite Gloucester grabbing an early try and their noisy supporters turning one side of Allianz Park into a mini Kingsholm. But all Owen could focus on was how crap his place-kicking had been - he'd missed three penalties and two conversions. Usually he had no trouble shutting out off-pitch issues during a match, but every so often the late-night conversation with George niggled at the back of his mind.

And for the first time in his life he felt conflicted by his feelings for the person he loved and by loyalty to his teammates, no matter how stupid they'd been.


End file.
